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Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. A moment afterwards, the street was illumined by a blaze of torchlight, and a tumultuous uproar, mixed with the clashing of weapons, and the braying of horns, announced the arrival of the first detachment of Minters. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. And I have wanted to so very much.
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